Eternally His
by dreamysalvatore
Summary: Set around fifty years after Damon's tragic death in 5x22, there seems to be little hope in getting him back from the prison world. While the rest of the world has moved on, Elena refuses to, and spends her days devoted to finding a witch willing to help her bring him back.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi guys! This is my first attempt at uploading a fanfiction on this site, so please bear with me! I'm not sure if I'll continue this, but it was fun to write nonetheless! If you enjoy it, I would really appreciate it if you let me know! :)**

**(I listened to Finally / Beautiful Stranger by Halsey while writing this—for some reason it really resonated with and influenced the mood of this fic for me, so I recommend doing the same while you read it!)**

**Side note: I don't own TVD or any of the characters associated with the universe, just using them for some AU fun!**

**Summary: Set around fifty years after Damon's tragic death in 5x22, there seems to be little hope in getting him back from the prison world. While the rest of the world has moved on, Elena refuses to, and spends her days devoted to finding a witch willing to help her bring him back.**

He was always _there_.

A flash of raven hair, the back of a leather jacket clad figure, even a deep baritone that slightly resembled his bedroom voice...they all brought him to the forefront of her mind in the most painful way.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? He was always there, haunting her mind, but he wasn't _there_.

No, he wasn't there with her where he was supposed to be because almost fifty years earlier he had been sent to a prison world, with no means of escape.

She could be mad, she could spend every waking moment of her existence full of resentment and anger toward an unchangeable fate...and for awhile she had been.

No, she had never let her anguish cause her to act out on her reckless vampire impulses as _he_ had once upon a time, but she _had_ obsessively devoted her life to finding a way to bring him back.

And according to Stefan, that was just as bad, if not worse than succumbing to the insatiable blood lust that walked hand-in-hand with vampire grief.

When she had experienced her brother's death as a new vampire all those years ago, she vividly remembered declaring it the most painful tragedy of her life due to the extent of her heightened emotions.

Looking back, she almost found the thought laughable. Losing a brother was painful, as was with any blood relative, but losing a soulmate? It was _debilitating_.

Shaking her head in an attempt to clear herself out of her reverie, Elena pulled into the parking lot of a tiny bar in southern Texas. One good thing about driving a '69 Camaro was the fact that even in the tiniest of tiny parking spots, it still had plenty of space without receiving door dings from neighboring cars.

After Damon's car had been obliterated in the explosion that took its adoring owner as well, Elena had vowed to find an identical version to keep the memory alive.

After ten years, she had finally found one for a decent price and deemed it her partner in finding a witch that could help her bring him back.

And she had dedicated the last few decades to doing just that. She checked in on the people she loved every now and again, of course, but she knew that they didn't need her to be happy anymore. Once upon a time, maybe, but the death of her boyfriend had rocked her so deep to the core that her former self that so passionately prioritized family and friends felt like a different person entirely. Now, bringing him back was the only thing that mattered.

Everyone else had moved on with time, and they struggled to comprehend why Elena couldn't. _Go to college,_ they said. _Start fresh; he wouldn't want this for you._

No, he wouldn't. But she knew just as well as they did that he would have done the same thing for her had the roles been reversed. Not just because they owed it to each other, but because there was no other way to move forward without your soulmate.

As she made her way out of the Camaro, she felt his presence weighing on her mind like a boulder. As with everything, her grief ebbed and flowed on a daily basis. Some days, she was so wholly consumed by it that dragging herself out of whatever hotel she had bunkered down in for the night seemed too great a task to even consider. Other days, her heart seemed light and fluttery with false hope that this lead would be the _one_; this witch would magically have the answer after nearly half a century of searching.

Today, she forced all unethical thoughts out of her mind. She needed to focus on the task at hand: schmoozing this witch into trusting a vampire with a reputation.

It wasn't like she had a bad reputation—quite the opposite, actually. People in the supernatural community didn't know her for the few times she lost control or gave in to her vampire urges. No, what she was known for was much more sad and embarrassing than that, and she knew that said reputation wasn't excluded from this part of Texas as she sat down at the bar and made eye contact with the witchy bar manager.

_Haven't you heard? She lost her boyfriend in a spell-gone-wrong and has spent every waking moment since trying to get him back. It's kind of sad...she must be one delusional vamp._

She knew people talked; primarily, witches. It was almost funny, knowing they warned each other about her when she had never once laid a finger on a witch who had refused to help her.

Currently, the one in front of her was unimpressively eyeing her as she made a drink for a fellow bar patron.

He was tall—probably a little over six foot, and blonde. He almost reminded her of Stefan in the way he squared his shoulders and held his posture so rigidly, which was a welcome thought. She hadn't seen him since...God, how long had it been? It was no secret that Stefan had always viewed her obsession distastefully. For the first ten, fifteen years, Stefan had faithfully tried to coax Elena into coming back home.

He had finally given up on that around the same time he started giving into his undeniable attraction to their blonde friend, but that was a story for another day.

"Bourbon, please." Elena nodded politely at the witch as she made her way down the bar to her. She was short, with dark curly hair and eyes that stated just what she thought of Elena's unexpected presence in her bar.

"Oh, honey, I hope you plan on paying for this drink. I know what vervain is—your little tricks won't work on me." She smiled tightly, a vein in her neck protruding as she easily poured Elena a glass.

"I know you've heard the stories...you know I won't hurt you. I believe in gaining someone's trust through friendship, not mind manipulation."

The witch almost looked relieved at the statement, watching Elena closely as she downed half the contents of the glass in one gulp.

"So my friends were right...they said you would come here looking for my help. I wasn't sure if it was you."

"My name is Elena Gilbert. Nice to meet you." Elena smiled her best believable smile, and it frightened her when she realized that she couldn't remember the last time she had done it sincerely.

When the witch only crossed her arms in response, Elena took it as an invitation to continue.

"Since I'm sure you know why I'm here, I'll cut to the chase. Assuming you somehow know of a spell that will help me out of my current predicament, is there any path of conversation that will lead to you trusting me enough to do the spell?"

Elena could tell the witch was judging her, could feel the way her eyes were raking over her almost week-old curled hair and smudged mascara, but silently prayed that if anything it would make her feel sympathy for her.

"Even if I did know of a spell, which I don't, why would I want to release a murderous vampire with a vendetta against people like me from a prison world? I know you're an exception, honey, but that little boy toy of yours isn't. Witches talk, you know."

Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't stopped at a hotel and slept in three days, or maybe it was just some part deep inside of her resigning, but somehow she knew in that moment that this lead was a dead end. With one last swift drink of the bourbon, she adjusted the lapel of her light brown suede jacket and stood up.

"Thank you for the drink. If you ever change your mind, I'm sure you'll know where to find me."

And with that, Elena tugged on the deep indigo summer dress she was wearing and left the bar with what little dignity she had remaining.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I just wanted to thank everyone who took the time out of their day to leave a review on the first chapter, as it means a great deal to me! My apologies that chapter two was a bit delayed; I wanted to be meticulous and make sure that I was happy with the end result! I'm thinking another chapter or two before I conclude this story, but rest assured that I am currently working on the outline of a new story that will be greater in terms of longevity.**

**With that out of the way, please enjoy this chapter! :)**

* * *

_"We're vampires, meaning that we can virtually travel anywhere in the world at only the mere cost of a compelled travel agent, and you're telling me that you would choose Florida?"_

_It was four am, mid-July. The height of summer was upon Mystic Falls, meaning that every day and night alike was spent in sweltering, humid heat that made her toes curl and the kisses she shared with the love of her life sticky and sweet._

_If possible, Elena swore she would've given anything to burn the current moment into her memory for the rest of eternity: warm breeze blowing in through the open window of Damon's room, bodies intertwined under crimson red silk sheets, and not a single care in the world between the two as they spent the better part of an hour bantering back and forth._

_"Don't be an ass—Florida is fun! My family used to always go there when Jer and I were kids."_

_Elena was indignant on the subject matter of where they would go on their hypothetical honeymoon. Even though Damon pretended to be annoyed at her stubbornness, she didn't need to be able to see through the darkness to know that there was currently a gleam of joy in his cerulean eyes._

_"You do realize that a honeymoon location is supposed to be someplace ridiculous and over-the-top, right? Not a nostalgic trip down memory lane? I'm not so sure you'd want me doing unspeakable things to you on your favorite childhood ride at Disney World."_

_This time, she knew without a doubt that there was a gleam in those eyes as she shoved him._

_"Alright, Mr. Picky. Please tell me what location you have in mind that is superior to Florida?"_

_She didn't expect him to have an answer eagerly waiting, and the fact that he did made her heart flutter in her chest more than usual._

_"Europe. Italy, specifically...maybe London. I haven't been overseas since the '90s, and I think you would enjoy it over there, being a hopeless romantic and all."_

_She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the smug remark._

_"Fine, but do your fancy vacation spots have Epcot and Animal Kingdom? I don't think so!"_

_She giggled as she was met by his lips crushing against hers in response, a sentiment that simultaneously warmed her heart and set her body on fire._

Every moment they had spent together that first summer had made her come to terms with the fact that her immortality, although not ideal, would be spent living magnificently and lavishly with the one person on Earth who never failed to put a smile on her face.

How ironic then, she thought as she stared at the unfamiliar off-white ceiling that permeated her vision, that she had been living in cheap hotel rooms with a penchant for poker faces over the last several decades.

She sighed, sick of feeling sorry for herself as she rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. It seemed that the only nights she got to experience uninterrupted sleep that wasn't plagued by dreams of what she had lost were the nights that she went to bed drunk.

_Perhaps this is why he always drank_; she couldn't help but think as she eyed the hotel room's mini bar in the corner of the room. _Was he plagued by demons from his past when he slept, too?_

She was in Colorado currently, chasing another likely dead-end lead...or was it Wyoming? Grief consumed so much of her thoughts and sadness so much of her brain that it was no wonder she had trouble remembering such mundane things.

Deciding that getting a drink for hydration was a better idea than one for sleep aid, she stumbled across the dark hotel room and into the bathroom in search of water.

Flicking the light on, she drowsily filled a cup perched on the sink with water, but not before examining her reflection.

Upon doing so, she realized rather bitterly that she was no longer the woman that had held Damon Salvatore's love.

Yes, the same doe eyes were staring back at her; the same button nose and pursued lips still graced her face, but she somehow looked different. Maybe older.

So many times during her human life she had found herself pondering how some of the creatures she crossed paths with were so far disconnected from their humanity. It had seemed so foreign to her, a human, as to how a person could truly become the monster they so vehemently pretended to be.

She didn't ponder anymore.

While she of course was no monster and had not flipped her humanity switch since the death of her brother, she couldn't help but feel like the years and years of loneliness and yearning had changed her. Hardened her.

A rather uncomfortable thought, one that questioned if Damon would still love this version of her crept up, but she did all that she could to suppress it.

She was not Katherine Pierce. She was still the compassionate, fiery, caring Elena that he and everyone else knew and loved...even if that side of her was a little buried for the time being.

Besides, all that mattered was finding a witch who knew a spell to bring him back. That was the endgame, and she would do whatever she had to do to achieve it.

* * *

Even at early dawn, there was a wetness in the air outside the hotel room that moistened her skin and clung to her clothes, so she hastily decided that the less she could wear, the better.

Deciding on a black fitted tee shirt and cut off denim shorts, she quickly packed the sparse essentials she traveled with into her suitcase.

Perhaps 'essentials' was a strong word...while she did travel lightly, she couldn't deny the fact that she had more than a few unnecessary items.

Damon-related items.

With shaking hands, she gently stuffed all of her Damon memorabilia on top of her already-packed wardrobe: his favorite book—_Call of The Wild_ by Jack London, a nearly empty bottle of his aftershave, one of his many button ups that his scent was barely clinging to after all this time, and his daylight ring.

For years after the incident, Stefan had been adamant on keeping the daylight ring in his possession. _You can take anything else, but just let me have the daylight ring, _he had begged her on the first of many unsuccessful attempts to sort through Damon's things.

Staring at the cold and unforgiving antique ring all these years later, all it did was bring her great sadness. Not because of the obvious, but because she couldn't look at it now without remembering the day Stefan had given it up to her.

The day he had decided he was done grieving his brother, done looking for him.

_I don't expect you to move on_, she remembered how resolute and detached he had sounded, _but I can't spend another day looking for a way to bring back someone who is gone forever. I'm sorry, Elena. _

Still to this day, Elena could not wrap her head around how Stefan had possibly managed to get past the death of his own brother.

Was she doing something wrong? Should she _force_ herself to move on?

She almost found the thought amusing as she zipped up her now packed suitcase. She had been there, done that at least a dozen times over during the course of the past half century, but she could never pull it off.

The problem was that she cared _too_ much. Long ago, she had accused Damon of the same thing, and his retort back had been some snide comment about being a liability.

She supposed that was what she was now; an embarrassment, a grief-stricken girl clinging to nonexistent hope.

She suddenly felt an incredible empathy for all those years Damon had spent searching for a way to bring Katherine back. If she had been in his shoes and had reached the light at the end of the tunnel only to find out that it had all been fruitless…

In retrospect, she wished that she had done _a lot_ more than hug him in consolation that night.

Tugging her suitcase off the bed in an attempt to disrupt her thoughts, she wrestled it out the hotel room door before heading downstairs to meet the Camaro for their next adventure.

* * *

Another day wasted on what had turned out to be a trivial lead; this, unfortunately, was beginning to sound like the story of her life. All the hassle of tracking down the witch that taught an occult study halfway across the country, and for what? Only for her to crush what little hope Elena had left, apparently.

Sitting in a bar in the middle of nowhere, drowning out her sorrows with a drink that was the favorite of her former boyfriend seemed like the only appropriate way to spend the evening of such a disappointing day.

As she busied herself with studying the behavior of the bar patrons around her, she couldn't help but let her mind idly wander back to the soul-crushing words of the witch just hours prior:

_Pulling someone back from a spell of that caliber is not the kind of power I possess nor care to. It would do you well to move on with your eternal life, dear. I would bet my bottom dollar that you'll never find the answer you're looking for._

Had she been right? Would Elena never find a witch who was both willing to help and strong enough to do so?

The thought depressed her even further, and she decided then that she was due for a distraction.

A distraction by way of quenching her thirst, perhaps.

Just as she had set her sights on the perfect candidate for Damon's signature _snatch-eat-erase_ method, which she had been a passionate advocate of for the past half century, she heard a voice that took her by such surprise that her predatory mindset was immediately discarded.

"Elena?"

She quickly turned around on the bar stool at the sound, doing a double take in disbelief at the figure that stood before her.

_Bonnie_.


End file.
